by Winters, KB
“Really, Em? Are you moonlighting as a fucking detective now?”
“No,” I snorted, “I’m just saying that she has a right to know.”
“Then you should have told her the night we found out. Now it’s too late. You hear me, Emmett? It’s too goddamn late.”
I knew that tone well, but for the first time in my life, I didn’t heed the warning, didn’t back down.
“What do you mean it’s too late? It’s not. She’s still alive, and she should at least be aware that she could be in danger. So she can take precautions.”
“We have precautions in place, Emmett. Don’t worry about it.”
I opened my mouth to say more, to argue my point, but his next words stopped me short.
“You’ve never been interested in any of the Ashbys businesses, brother, so don’t start now.”
He had me there, but it didn’t matter. Vanessa wasn’t one of them; she wasn’t like that. She was a nice girl, a sweet girl. Didn’t deserve her husband’s fate. Or Fiona’s.
“Fuck you, Terry.”
“Yeah, yeah, fuck me. I’m the asshole here. Fine, but keep your fucking mouth shut. That’s an order.”
Fuck. There was no way I could ignore the threat those words implied or the fact that they came from my own flesh and blood brother. So, I said nothing; instead, I just ended the call. Angry and upset, I hated that once again Terry would always choose his duty to the Ashby family above all else.
I couldn’t blame him, not really. Sadie and her children had taken us in and treated us as family, but this was one little fucking thing that he could have done for me. And he refused.
Flat out fucking refused.
Well, goddammit, I wasn’t going to take it. I grabbed my phone and keys to my Tesla and raced out of my front door. I headed to Terry’s house before I could talk myself out my hot-headed move.
The light was still on in the upstairs bedroom window when I pulled up in front of Terry’s house a few minutes later. I’d yet to figure out what I wanted to say to him, my mind was full of epithets and rage as I raced up the walk and pounded on the front door.
“Damn it, Terry, open up,” I yelled at the top of my lungs.
By the time he flung the door open in his briefs and a black cashmere robe adorned with the Ashby crest, his eyes burned with righteous anger. “What the fuck, Emmet?” he said, his voice a drowsy mix of confusion and irritation. “It’s the middle of the night.”
I pushed my nose into his face and snarled, “I’m interested in the Ashby’s business all right, Terry, especially when it involves getting innocent women killed. That a problem for you?”
Terry put his hand in my face to stop me and that set off a switch in my brain. It was suddenly all too much. The ambush at the HOA, the mess with Ravager, the video of Fiona’s murder, coupled with my fear for Vanessa. My PTSD kicked in and I wasn’t taking shit anymore. From anyone.
I hauled back and hit Terry with an uppercut to the jaw that sent him reeling back through his doorway. He staggered briefly then recovered and came at me with blows to my nose and my solar plexus. They landed like puffballs. Guy was so out of shape it wasn’t even funny.
I bulldozed my way onto him and we both landed on the carpeting in the entryway with me on top of Terry, my nose bleeding onto his face.
He fought at me and kicked to get out from under me, but I had him pinned and I pummeled him with blows to his face and his chest. If he landed a fist on me, I didn’t even notice. I went at him with a white hot fury.
“What the fuck is wrong with you two?” Kat shouted, running down the stairs toward us.
She pulled on me, yanking my hair back, grabbing me by the neck until I came to my senses and let go of the death grip I had on my brother’s neck. Kat came between us and and sat on Terry’s head until he stopped swinging wildly, carving circles in the air without doing any damage to me.
Finally, his arms fell onto the carpet and Terry said, “Enough.”
I didn’t know if he was telling me to stop or admitting defeat.
Kat pushed me off Terry and I fell to my knees, more in shock at the fury my brother had unleashed in me than any pain he had inflicted.
Kat helped Terry to his feet, and he looked down at me. “Get out,” he said.
“I have something to say to you, Terry,” I said, struggling up to one knee.
Kat was helping him back up the stairs. “I said, get out.”
Kat lifted Terry’s arm over her shoulder and steadied him around his waist. I saw the damage I had done to him as he limped away from me. She turned to me. “No more tonight, Emmett. Go.”
Her voice was cold, a tone I’d never heard before, and I knew it was over.
I staggered to my car and slumped behind the wheel, my head buzzing from Terry’s blows. I looked at the clock on the dashboard.
It was well past midnight and too damn late to do anything about keeping an eye on Vanessa now. What was I thinking? She was probably preparing to cash out the players. She would make it home safely and do it all again tomorrow.
There was nothing more I could do, but brood, which my head shrink said wasn’t healthy, as if I could fucking help it. Or was there? I headed for my Tesla just before two. As I pulled away from Terry’s place, my phone dinged with a message.
From Terry, not Vanessa.
Meeting 9am. Ashby Manor. Be there.
If I was expected to show up, the news was big.
If Terry was still speaking to me, the news was fucking big.
But first, I had a meeting of my own.
Chapter Eight
Vanessa
On my second night of work, I strode in feeling more confident and looking a little more like I belonged. I wore a hot pink bandage dress and a pair of sexy black pumps I’d borrowed from Kat. I accessorized it with an air of don’t fuck with me that I knew would steel me against Evan’s gruff nature as well as the flirtatiousness of some of the players.
Tonight, I was ready for what I’d dubbed Round Two and I felt ready to face these people on my terms.
I decided to put an end to the timid girl who’d let her overly religious parents control her and boss her around for too many years, and I refused to be the good little wife who happily followed my husband all over the country without once thinking about what I wanted.
Vanessa may have done those things, but Nessa didn’t. No, Nessa stood up for herself; she flirted while maintaining a professional distance, and she could take care of herself.
“Hey, Nessa, babe, what’s a guy gotta do to get another G&T?” Raymundo, a slick Spanish guy who was either a gangster or a politician flashed a blinding white smile my way.
I shrugged and took his empty glass with ease. “Winning a hand or two would be a good start,” I told him and sauntered off while the rest of the table gave him grief, a smile on my face because I’d decided, again thanks to Emmett, to keep a smile on my face no matter what happened. If I kept the players from knowing what affected me—or didn’t—they’d stop trying to get a reaction out of me.
“Botanist & tonic, and another Negroni, thanks.”
Evan manned the bar tonight since Hulu was at the front door, so I chose to be polite but distant. Nessa didn’t do theatrics.
“Negroni?” His gaze focused on the empty glass I set on the bar.
“When I get back to the table, Forrester’s glass will be empty.” That was all I said and all he needed to know. I turned to watch the tables while he, presumably, made the drinks.
“There you go.”
“Thanks.” I picked up the glasses and made my way back to the table.
“Nessa, honey, you’re too good to me.” Forrester was a young actor whose TV show was on hiatus, He called his time at the tables research, but the guy was too good a card player for that.
“Thank you.”
He handed me his empty glass with a hundred-dollar-bill wrapped around it and accepted the new Negroni with a smile.
“My pl
easure. Anyone else need anything?”
Anastasia, a beautiful Swede with hardly a trace of an accent laughed.
“Raymundo and Jefferson could use a refresher course on Texas Hold ’em, but I need to know where you got that dress. It’s fabulous.”
I laughed. “All I know about the game is to bluff, but the dress came from Halo, a cute little boutique at Emerald Isle.”
“Ask them to hold a size six, yes?”
I nodded and turned away to send a quick message to Kat, because that, I was learning quickly, was my job. If it kept Anastasia happy and at the tables, short of stealing, killing, and fucking, I did it. Just as I sent the message to Kat, another message had come through from Emmett.
Having a good night?
So, the word was out that I was working here. He was such a sweet guy, and though he was quiet, it didn’t come across as creepy. Or weird.
I am. Thank you. I sent the message and then a happy face because the man needed to smile more.
Glad to hear it, was his reply. But no word on whether that had been him I’d seen in my rear view mirror or just a figment of my imagination.
It thrilled me to think he might have shown up last night just to make sure my first night went well. I appreciated it because he was one of the few people in my life who knew how hard I’d been working to put my life together after Lance. My parents wanted me to come home and marry a local boy, and they didn’t care whether or not that was the life I wanted. The few girlfriends I had in Glitz wanted to hook me up with another military man, or worse, a professional bodyguard.
No thanks. No matter how many times I said I wasn’t ready to move on, they didn’t listen. It pissed me off how everyone acted like Lance and I had broken up, that he’d left me for another woman, but that wasn’t the case. He was dead and that would take some time getting over.
Besides, when I was ready to move on, it wouldn’t be with a man like the men in this room. Not that there was anything wrong with them. Aside from Evan of course, they were all good looking and fit with good personalities. But I wasn’t in the market for another man who had a dangerous job. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I should be thinking about the idea of moving on or even being attracted to another man. It was still too soon.
Too soon to think about touching someone other than Lance. Too soon to even imagine being naked in front of someone else when no one else had ever seen me like that. It felt too soon period, except when loneliness kicked in. That’s when it felt like he’d already been gone an eternity. Some nights I found myself looking at the front door, expecting him to walk right through it with a big smile on his face and a hot, welcoming kiss for me.
It never happened, of course, and the confusing spiral of want and doubt continued.
“Daydreaming on the job already?” Jasper’s voice startled a gasp out of me, but his teasing tone was even more surprising.
“Hardly, just texting Kat about a dress for Anastasia.” His eyes were solely focused on me, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he could sense the lie, the half lie. The little bitty white lie. “What’s up, boss?”
Jasper grinned. “Just swung by to check on things. How’s it going?”
“Fine. I’m getting used to things, like handling all that cash.”
He smiled. “It takes time, but Mace said you handle it like a pro.” Could Jasper really be a sweetheart under that gruff exterior?
I barked out a laugh both at his words and my fanciful thoughts. “Yeah, after a mild freak out I calmed down and did my job.”
“Good. That’s what I like to hear. I knew you’d be a good fit here, Va—uhm—Nessa.”
“Thanks, that’s good to hear. Especially from the boss.”
His smile wavered, and I wondered if I said something wrong. “Don’t worry about Evan, he’s kind of—”
“Sorry, can you hold that thought? Four empty glasses and a marker at table two.” I flashed a brittle smile and hurried away, happy to have a legitimate reason to get out of that particular conversation. I didn’t want to talk about Evan or think about him. Period.
“I’ve been summoned?” I asked with a flirty uptilt in my voice when I reached the table.
Vlad, a walking talking stereotype of a platinum blond Russian playboy folded his cards and smiled up at me.
“I love making a beautiful woman come,” he said in a thick accent. “More vodka. More lime. More money. Rebeckah thinks she knows more about soccer than me, can you believe it?” He rolled his eyes at the very thought, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“She does own a team, doesn’t she?”
“Yes, but she won it in her divorce,” he snorted. “Which,” he raised his empty glass to Rebeckah and frowned, “I commend you for. Still.”
“More vodka,” I said and took his empty glass along with the other, grabbing the marker so I could exchange it with Mace. “Be right back.”
That was pretty much how night two went down, running back and forth to the bar, mostly ignoring Evan, changing markers and monitoring side bets, all the while smiling and laughing with the uber rich gamblers who left, as Kat had promised, ridiculous tips. The first night, I’d gone home with a thousand bucks and tonight that had tripled.
Thanks to Nessa.
And thanks to Kat, my feet felt like I’d been wearing sneakers all night, and I made a note to take my tips and buy another pair of these incredible shoes.
“Good night?” Provo appeared at the table while I cleared the cards and empty glasses, his gaze sober and serious. As usual.
“No complaints.” He didn’t seem particularly excited that I had taken this job, not that I’d expected Provo to be excited, but at least happy for me or at the very least, supportive. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.” So he said, but there he stood on the other side of the table, staring at me.
“Good talk,” I told him and shoved all the cards back into the shuffler before carting as many glasses as I could carry over to the bar.
“How long are you filling in?”
I set the glasses down and turned to him, watching his questioning blue eyes carefully. “I’m not filling in Provo, I’m working. What do you care?”
He sighed and looked around before his gaze met mine again. “Lance wouldn’t want you doing this.”
“Yeah well, Lance isn’t here, and no offense, Provo, but you have no idea what he would or wouldn’t want me to do. Anything else?”
I was so tired of people telling me what my dead husband would have wanted for me because they didn’t know Lance. My happiness was what mattered to him and vice versa.
“Just think about it.”
I sighed and shook my head. “If that’s what you think, maybe you should just mind your own business.”
Hulu appeared, big and towering, and looking more menacing than I’d seen him so far. “Is there a problem here?”
“Other than Provo trying to convince me to get another job? No problem at all. I’ve got things to do,” I said and headed back to the tables, my mind whirling with just how many people in my life were trying to run it for me.
“I have no problem with you being here,” Provo began, his tone anything but apologetic.
“Oh, how kind of you, but I don’t remember asking your opinion or your permission.” Both tables were now clear of cards, leaving half a dozen glasses that I grabbed up quickly.
“I’m trying to look out for you, Vanessa.”
“I don’t recall asking you, and if you are just trying to look out for me, Provo, where in the hell have you been? Lance has been dead for a while now, but this is the first time I’ve spoken to you since the memorial.”
He didn’t have anything to say to that. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Just stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.”
“I can’t do that. I made Lance a promise.”
“Exactly! You were his friend, not mine. I don’t want or need your help so just…leave me alone!”
I felt more emotiona
l than I wanted to be, but it was hard to be Nessa in front of someone who knew the timid, real version of me.
“What’s going on?” Evan’s golden eyes took in my red face and then Provo’s dark glare.
“Nothing,” I growled. “Why don’t you two have a blast just talking about how I don’t belong here and leave me the hell out of it!” I walked away and finished the last few tasks on my list, feeling angry and upset after what had started as such a good night.
My phone chimed and vibrated against my thigh. Emmett. Need a ride home?
I rolled my eyes, sending a prayer to the universe that Emmett wasn’t another person looking to control me. No I’m good. I responded, hoping he wasn’t offended.
Me too. Can’t sleep and thought you might want to relax while someone else drives you home. He added a shrugging emoji that put a smile on my face.
My own personal chauffer? How can I refuse?
Exactly. See you soon.
I didn’t know if that was a promise or a threat, but the idea of seeing Emmett again made me smile. Unlike everyone else in my life—other than Kat and Maisie—he just seemed to want my company. At least I hoped that was it, that he liked me and wanted to be around me. I didn’t need more people keeping an eye on me to make sure I didn’t have a mental fucking break down, to give them a reason to share their unsolicited advice about how I should be living my life without my husband.
Very soon, I hope.
I’ll be outside in 5.
“Who’s making you smile like that?” I heard the delight in Mace’s voice before I looked up and saw his cheeky grin. “Well?”
“How was your date last night?”
He shrugged. “She was hot as hell but not much between the ears other than fashion,” he scoffed. “Obviously, I am a master of fashion,” he motioned to his all black outfit, “but I have no desire to talk about it. Or fashion designers.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Maybe next time.”
His smile brightened. “Hopefully, I’ll have better luck tonight. Come on, I’ll walk you out while you tell me who put that smile on your pretty face.”